


I'm Still Here

by forgetmenotjimmy



Series: Sacrifice [1]
Category: Star Trek: Enterprise
Genre: Angst, Fuck Or Die, Hurt No Comfort, M/M, Past Relationship(s), Post-Break Up, Sex, Swearing, Unrequited Love, Voyeurism
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-10
Updated: 2018-03-10
Packaged: 2019-03-29 06:34:19
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,043
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13921416
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/forgetmenotjimmy/pseuds/forgetmenotjimmy
Summary: There was a short pause as everyone considered this information. Finally, Sub-Commander T’Pol confirmed flatly.“The Captain must fornicate with a member of the crew in order to recover.” Tucker sighed."I'll do it."





	I'm Still Here

**Author's Note:**

> This was inspired by ‘Bounty’ (i.e. I stole the hormone premise) and the reveal of the central relationship sparked inspiration for a multi-chaptered fic I’m writing. The fic outgrew the scene as I decided to stick more closely to canon events, but I still liked the idea so here it is as a stand-alone.  
> I tried to make the whole 'fuck or die' premise not entirely ridiculous as the rest of the fic is so angsty, on the other hand, I had such fun writing Reed’s POV *cringes in British*.  
> Let me know if you think any tags are missing or if you have any other feedback and hope you enjoy!

Enterprise’s Security Chief stalked down the corridors with a storm cloud circling his head. The Captain and T’Pol had only been on the surface of the uninhabited M-class planet for a few minutes when the Sub-Commander had reported that the Captain had suddenly become unwell and they would be returning immediately. What could have possibly happened and why wouldn’t anyone listen to him when he recommended security details for away missions instead of parties of just two? Sensitivity of the ecosystem be damned! Reed strode into Sickbay to find Sub-Commander T’Pol, Commander Tucker and Doctor Phlox gathered around a screen. He saw the Captain on the Decon monitor, he was slumped in a corner, half-dressed and…seemed to be… Reed averted his gaze hurriedly as he realised what the Captain was doing. He looked almost desperately at the others, willing them to explain the bizarre situation. T’Pol came to his rescue, saying without inflection.

“The Captain seems to have been infected by an alien virus on the planet’s surface.” The Doctor continued smoothly.

“The virus causes a dramatic hormone imbalance, resulting in the Captain’s uh, intense urges, which if left untreated, could lead to extreme inflammation of the thyroid gland. If the thyroid is strained too much hormone production will cease and the Captain would be in danger of developing hypothyroidism and slipping into a coma. Luckily it seems Vulcans are immune to it, which is why T’Pol is unaffected.” Reed huffed and managed to grit out his point through his own slightly-flushed face.

“So, will he just…take care of himself?” The Commander suppressed a smile at his discomfort but soon forced himself into seriousness as the Doctor went on.

“Were it that simple. The Captain has been…attempting to do just that to no avail. Unfortunately, there seems to be a psychological element to this as well.” He indicated to the screens. “See the heightened activity in this section here? I believe another party is needed to ah, remedy the situation.” There was a short pause as everyone considered this information. Finally, Sub-Commander T’Pol stated flatly.

“The Captain must fornicate with a member of the crew in order to recover.” The Doctor confirmed this with a nod. “Would that crewmember become infected also?” Lieutenant Reed glanced over at Commander Tucker to gauge how he was coping with this strange turn of events and saw the engineer’s ‘thinking’ face.

“I have studied the virus and it is purely airborne, I do not believe it could be transmitted through saliva or other bodily fluids.” The Commander uncrossed his arms.

“Does it have to be with a woman?” T’Pol looked at him curiously as the Doctor considered. Reed, on the other hand, spluttered.

“When did we decide this? Are we sure we haven’t explored every other possibility?” Phlox shook his head.

“I’m afraid that I could not synthesise anything that would correct the problem, especially not in the time available. Medically, this is the only course of treatment.” There was a pause and then he added. “And to answer your question Commander, no, I do not believe so. It is not an urge to produce offspring, more to…be sexually intimate.” Tucker sighed and addressed T’Pol.

“I’ll do it.” She challenged him almost instantly.

“Anal sex has more potential for physical harm than the vaginal variety.” Torn between incredulity and embarrassment, Reed found himself unable to comment as Tucker countered.

“Not if you know what you’re doin’.” And wasn’t that casual reference to his sexual history a surprise? But Lieutenant Reed had hardly any time to muse on that as Tucker went on smoothly. “And there’s no risk of pregnancy. Plus, the fact that the Cap’n hasta work with whoever it is. Doesn’t matter if she volunteers, no way is he gonna be alright with having sex with a subordinate like that.” That was a good point and very true of Captain Archer’s nature.

“And you don’t believe your working relationship with the Captain would be compromised?” Another good point. Tucker didn’t bat an eye.

“We’ve been friends a long time, it…” He swallowed and continued, a shadow in his eyes even as his face stayed relaxed. “It won’t be a problem.” Reed shuffled on his feet slightly, a suspicion starting to uncurl in his mind as T’Pol merely raised an eyebrow. He wondered if she was having the same thought. But she merely looked at Phlox who shrugged. Then she turned to him. Ah, this was his bit.

“Can we predict the Captain’s behaviour during…?” He coughed and soldiered on. “Could he become violent?” Phlox frowned, considering.

“Interesting question, I’m afraid I can’t answer with any degree of certainty. He may become…over-enthusiastic you could say. It is also a possibility that his sexual frustration may lead to a certain amount of aggression.” Huffing, Tucker crossed his arms again.

“I can handle myself.” T’Pol responded surprisingly diplomatically.

“Your competence at self-defence is not in question. But it is more difficult to subdue an attacker when trying not to hurt them unduly.” _Especially if you’re naked_ , Reed’s brain unhelpfully supplied. Forcing himself to be professional he suggested.

“I can be on standby with tranquilisers in case the Captain becomes… aggressive.” And he could not believe that he was going along with this, but he didn’t have any better ideas and Tucker seemed perfectly willing, nonchalant even, as if this was a common occurrence. The volunteer glanced at him, saying tightly.

“Sure, a guy in the background waving around a hypospray will calm things down.” Blushing fiercely at the mental picture, Reed stuttered.

“I wouldn’t go in!” T’Pol stalled any response by addressing Phlox.

“I assume you would closely monitor the encounter for signs of…distress.” Tucker interrupted before the doctor could reply.  

“You don’t have to keep the monitors on. It’ll be fine.” T’Pol shot that down immediately.

“It would be irresponsible to turn them off.” The Commander frowned.

“The Captain-” Reed cut in swiftly, sensing this might become a bone of contention.

“-wouldn’t want to you to get hurt just because of the… delicacy of the situation.” Tucker closed his mouth, unable to argue with that even though he was clearly still uncomfortable with the decision. Lord knew Malcolm wouldn’t want anyone else watching him have sex. But he couldn’t just let his friend go into a situation like that without back-up. Phlox bounced on the balls of his feet and suggested.

“Perhaps we could agree to keep the audio and biosensors only. That way, we could still monitor for any difficulties but the…intrusion would be lessened.” They all considered it, Tucker twisting his lips.

“Why don’t you just keep the biosensors on? No audio.” Shaking his head, the Doctor explained.                                                                                                    

“It’s not always possible to judge distress from heart rate alone.” Tucker still looked unconvinced so Reed added.

“With the audio on you could call for help.” Tucker turned to him, thoroughly hot under the collar as he snapped.

“I’m not gonna need help!” T’Pol was not impressed by this, simply stating.

“You cannot know that.” Looking between the three others, Tucker finally sighed.

“You’d delete it as soon as it was over?” A light in Phlox’s eyes flickered and died as he agreed reluctantly. Tucker sighed again, rubbing his neck and Reed turned to T’Pol.

“That’s probably the best compromise we’ll come up with.” T’Pol glanced at all of them in turn for a moment before settling her gaze on Tucker.

“Are you certain that you accept the risks and possible consequences, Commander?” He straightened slightly and replied without hesitation.

“Yes.”

“Then you have authorisation.” Briefly wondering how this would be written up to Starfleet Command in the Sub-Commander’s report, Reed watched Tucker’s jaw twitch before he nodded.

“Right.” He nodded again to himself and then seemed to realise that the others were watching him. Flushing for the first time, he coughed and turned to Phlox, lowering his voice. “You ah…you got any surgical lubricant?”

“Ah yes, over here.” As the Doctor went off to fetch it, T’Pol excused herself to the bridge, telling them to update her as necessary. Reed cleared his throat and walked over to the monitor which showed the Captain still furiously masturbating. He caught a glimpse and looked away again, face reddening even more as he looked skyward, muttering. Not looking Phlox in the eye, Tucker took the lubricant and slipped into the head, mumbling something indistinct the others didn’t need to hear to understand. Phlox prepared a hypospray of tranquilisers and taking it, Reed prayed to a God he’d never believed in that he wouldn’t have to use it.

About ten minutes later, Tucker emerged from the head in his regulation underwear, face red and clutching the bottle of lubricant. Reed averted his gaze from the Commander’s crotch as Phlox swept closer to talk to Tucker before he went into the Decon chamber. The Doctor handed him a hand scanner.

“This will tell you when the Captain’s hormone levels have returned to normal.” Tucker took it and nodded in thanks, though he looked less than pleased as Phlox went on. “Are you sure you were…uh, thorough in your preparations?”

“Yes, doc.” Tucker swallowed and seemed to consider for a moment before saying lowly. “It’s not my first rodeo.” The doctor frowned slightly, but the intended meaning of the phrase was fairly evident so he did not question it. Sparing another glance at the others, Tucker seemed to come to a decision and asked uncomfortably. “You’re not going to listen, right?” Reed half-choked on some spit and busied himself clearing his throat so let the Doctor answer with an awkward smile. Tucker fidgeted with the hem of his vest, mumbling. “Just…don’t listen to anything the Cap’n might say or anything.” Having recovered, Reed nodded and said seriously.

“What happens in Decon, stays in Decon.” Smiling slightly at the in-joke among the crew, Trip seemed to relax a little and he nodded again, steeling himself. Phlox put in the code and let him in.

Lieutenant Reed and Doctor Phlox took up positions beside the door, Phlox dutifully turning off the visual and after a shared look with the Security Officer, turned up the volume on the audio. Captain Archer’s frustrated panting and whines filled Sickbay along with slick rubbing sounds. Then came Tucker’s voice, surprisingly gentle, as if he were talking to a scared animal.

“Jon.” The Captain must have heard him, as he groaned desperately.

“Trip! Please. Please I need…” There was a ruffle of material and Trip replied softly.

“It’s okay, I’m here.” Archer whined and then he was cut off by the soft, smacking of lips, the barely-there sound of fingers against skin. This continued for a minute then Archer broke away and said more urgently.

“Please, please I need…in you, I need to be in you.” Tucker responded breathily.

“I know, I know. I’m ready…Here…just, let me…” There were the sounds of shuffling and then a silent moment. Then both men groaned in unison. At this point, Reed cleared his throat, avoiding Phlox’s eye and gritting his jaw, thinking unsexy thoughts. Phlox for his part was surreptitiously taking notes. Over the comm, Archer gave an almost-sob of pleasure.

“Oh God! You feel…oh God! So tight!” Reed, face beet-red, was concerned momentarily before hearing Tucker respond a beat later, voice wavering but not in obvious distress.

“Jon.” Reed’s brow furrowed, Tucker had sounded… reverent almost. Slowly, as they appeared to recover from the initial feeling, the men in Decon began to pant and groan together. Reed forced himself through the mortification to focus on the quality of the sounds, listening out for any hint of pain or aggression. Suddenly the Captain gave a long, almost-growl and the movement came to a stop, Tucker murmuring comfortingly.

“There you go, feel better now?” Seeming to recover his breath a bit, Archer sighed.

“Yeah, yeah. Loads.” Then he grunted as the pair seemed to move again, like they were changing positions. Tucker gasped and hummed; more kissing sounds and then they were rocking again, Tucker making little choked sounds of pleasure every so often, breath stuttering. Their heart rates were elevated, but at levels consistent with strenuous physical activity. A rhythm was established and at one-point Tucker cried out loudly, but it quickly became evident that it was in pleasure and not in pain, Archer chuckling weakly and murmuring something indistinct. Occasionally they appeared to be kissing, then, as the pace increased Archer began babbling and confirmed Reed’s earlier suspicion.

“Oh God, Trip! Ugh, ugh, missed, this.” It was followed by the smacking of lips but then they must have broken away as Archer moaned again, long and loud. The sounds of movement slowed and the Captain sighed, still panting. Reed looked over and noticed Phlox writing in his PADD. He frowned, about to comment but he was startled when Tucker gasped suddenly. Fortunately, the listeners were kept from jumping into action by his following groan.

“Jon!” A slick, rubbing sound explained his pleasure and soon he cried out. They both stopped, recovering their breath. Phlox, forestalling any comment Reed might make on his note-taking in the ‘break in the action’, busied himself checking the bio readings of the occupants. After a few minutes of the pair’s breathing calming down, there was movement and grunting.

“Wha…?”

“Ssh. Just got to check you’re okay.”

“I feel fine.” There was amusement mingled with concern as Tucker replied.

“Well, let me be the judge of that.” The beeping of the hand scanner went on for a few seconds before there was a whisper; a whisper so quiet that was barely picked up by the microphones.

“I miss you.” There was a long pause as the listeners held their breath and waited for a response. Finally, Trip said matter-of-factly.

“Your hormone levels are still a little high.” Reed frowned and shared a look with Phlox. Unless he’d responded non-verbally, Trip was acting as if Jon hadn’t made an intimate confession. If he had ignored the overture completely, the Captain did not seem offended, as he merely asked curiously.

“Is that bad?”

“Not sure, we’ll have to stay here a bit longer to see.” There was a pause. “You still feel…? How do you feel?”

“M’okay… sleepy.”

“Hold on.” There was sounds of someone getting up and walking to the washroom. The faucet ran and then the person returned. Reed’s eyebrows raised as he heard what sounded like giggling over the sounds of wet cloth on skin. Then the swipe of a heavier material. “Here, don’t want you getting cold.” Tucker said in that soft voice over the rustling of cloth. “…other arm in…there we go.” Archer hummed happily and murmured.

“You’re warm…you’re always warm.” There was more rustling and shifting of bodies then, soft, wet sounds of lips meeting and pulling apart.

“Jon.” The name was torn between protest and longing. Archer seemed to pick up on this, his own voice now gentle, searching.

“Trip?” For a long moment, there was quiet, just soft breathing. Then a long sigh and the Captain whispered. “I’m sorry.” Someone, probably Tucker, made shushing sounds and someone else, probably Archer, hummed sleepily. One of them hissed suddenly and Archer mumbled, concerned through drowsiness.

“I…hurt you?”

“No. I’m fine.” Tucker reassured him quickly, but there was something wrong in his voice. Teetering on the edge of sleep, Archer sounded almost child-like as he asked.

“Goin’…t’ stay?” Tucker sighed and there was definite sadness in his response.

“Sssh…Yes, I’m here. Go to sleep, Jon. You’ll be more yourself when you wake up.” Then there were just the sounds of soft breathing and an occasional sniff. A good twenty minutes passed, Phlox closely monitoring their bio signs, Reed counting ceiling tiles, before there came a beeping from the hand scanner. “Phlox?”

“Yes, Commander?”

“His hormone levels are back to normal now.”

“Well done, Commander.” Phlox picked up his PADD. “I’m going to come in and assess your conditions.”

“Okay.” Reed was somewhat at a loose end and he took a long time finding an appropriate place to put down to the hypospray he still held. He heard low voices from Decon but wasn’t close enough to distinguish the words and felt no desire to try. He deliberately did not think about what he’d already overheard. Not long after going in, Phlox re-emerged, helping Tucker support the Captain, who was awake again but still weak from the ordeal and not really cognisant of what was going on. Both were in their regulation blues, a little ruffled but decent. Tucker’s eyes were faintly red, but Reed refrained from commenting as he watched the pair deposit the Captain carefully on a bio bed.

“Easy does it, Captain. Any pain?” Reed and Tucker watched as the Doctor coaxed some answers out of the sleepy Captain before pulling away and addressing them. “As far as I can tell he should be fine but he should get some rest now.” He looked to Tucker. “Make sure to rest as well, and let me know if you notice any blood or unusual pain in the affected area.” Tucker nodded and the Doctor bustled over to his station. Knowing he should leave to write up his report, Reed found himself reluctant. God knew he wasn’t one for emotional support, but seeing Tucker linger over Archer’s bed, his hair mussed and lips swollen, his expression…Well, it looked like there were complicated, even conflicting, emotions churning away in his friend. He said tentatively.

“Well, that’s one for the books.” Trip didn’t acknowledge the comment, continuing to stare at the Captain, an ex-lover, for a long moment. Then he belatedly realised Malcolm was there and started a little. He croaked, eyes roaming everywhere but Malcolm’s face.

“I should, uh, get changed.”

“Right, yes of course. I need to…write the report.” Trip looked at him then and Malcolm had no trouble reading his face. “Just the basic facts. Nothing…irrelevant.” The gratitude in Trip’s eyes was mixed with regret as he smiled sadly.

“Thanks, Malcolm.” Glancing once more at his sleeping Captain, Reed left Sickbay. His mind was whirring with all this new information as he berated himself for not noticing before and considering what, if anything, he needed to do about it. What did you know? Sometimes it’s not the quiet ones.

…

A few hours later, Phlox commed the senior officers back to Sickbay. The Captain was awake and fully dressed, perched on a bio bed as T’Pol and Reed entered. He was glad for the Vulcan and Armoury Officer’s poker faces for once, neither showing embarrassment, though Reed didn’t quite look him in the eye. Phlox had already confirmed what had happened: he’d been infected by an alien virus which caused him to become ‘aroused’ to the point of, as Phlox had put it, ‘vigorous masturbatory ministrations’. Thankfully, knowledge of the nature of his infection had been contained to the senior staff, so he could avoid ship-wide humiliation. That didn’t change how violated and shamed he felt from the whole experience but he forced himself to count his blessings where he could. T’Pol asked primly.

“Captain, are you recovered?” Thank God for Vulcan pragmatism. He swallowed and said as neutrally as possible.

“I think so. I’ve definitely been better.” Phlox chimed in helpfully, sounding way too cheerful in Archer’s opinion.

“Yes, well the headache should subside after another few hours. A good night’s sleep and you should be as good as new.”

“Will I remember more?” All he had was a vivid dream, which turned out not to actually be a dream, of fucking his chief engineer. It was fuzzy and jumbled, like he’d been black-out drunk, and he wasn’t sure of the details, even if the general idea was painfully clear.

“From what I can tell it is unlikely that you will regain any more memories, but nothing is certain.” He shared a look with Reed before saying carefully. “Due to the delicate nature of the procedure, we turned off the cameras in Decon. But the audio we kept on for security reasons, if you would like a copy to try and fill in any gaps.” Feeling nauseated at the thought that a record of the incident existed, Archer nonetheless saw the benefit of having as full a picture as possible.

“Can I come back to you on that?” The Doctor nodded and eager to finish up the debriefing as soon as possible, the Captain cleared his throat and went on. “So the Doctor’s given me the gist of it: the virus affected my hormone levels and I had to…have sex to bring them back to normal.” Luckily, T’Pol steamrolled over any social awkwardness and reported bluntly.

“The Commander predicted that you would be more comfortable having sexual intercourse with him than any other member of the crew.” The Captain’s blush deepened and he coughed, continuing gamely.

“Yes I…I remember that much. And he was right, by the way, for future reference. Though by God, I hope this never comes up again.” The door swished open and Tucker entered; his frame was slightly stiff but only to those paying attention, otherwise he seemed normal. He saw the Captain and said with a sunny smile.

“Capn’, you’re awake! How you feeling?” Reed shifted slightly, the most he’d moved throughout the whole debriefing, making Archer wonder briefly if that was significant or if his feet were just getting tired. He managed a grimace in response, saying as lightly as he could.

“I’m fine, Trip, thanks for asking.” Looking around at the assembled group, Tucker addressed T’Pol.

“Sorry I’m late, the injectors were playing up again.” The Sub-Commander didn’t even raise an eyebrow, saying briefly.

“We were just debriefing the Captain.” She went on to outline the details in Reed’s report. Curiously, it only cited the reason of rank as to why Commander Tucker was chosen to ‘assist’ the Captain in his recovery; it did not even mention their long-standing friendship as a contributing factor, though Command and the crew knew of it. Admiral Forrest being the only one who knew the full story, of course. Captain Archer wondered how much, if anything, the others knew of their previous relationship as one of them must have at least questioned whether it would affect their working together. They had to at least suspect… He kept waiting for T’Pol to bring it up and begin doubting their ability to keep their emotions in check but the report just went on to explain that Reed and Phlox had monitored them for safety reasons but no intervention was needed – thank God – and both parties appeared to have recovered without complications. Though of course Phlox would require them both for check-ups for a week or two afterwards, just in case. T’Pol concluded the report.

“Does anyone have anything to add?” They all shook their heads, Archer considering how he was going to casually get Trip alone to interrogate him about how much he was missing from his hazy recollection, how much the others knew or might have guessed. He dismissed everyone and managed to nod when Phlox suggested sending the audio to the terminal in his quarters.

“The Commander requested that the record be deleted, so you will possess the only copy.”

“I second that. Thank you Doctor.” He turned to leave but was stopped by the Doctor’s suddenly apologetic words.

“Captain. Rest assured that I respected your privacy and any notes I may have made have subsequently been erased.”

“Notes? No wait, I don’t want to know.” And he excused himself pretty quickly after that.

Doctor Phlox had recommended that he take the rest of the day off to recover further, but knowing he would be agonising over what happened if trapped in his quarters, he slipped up to his Ready Room and went over some reports. He wasn’t doing very well when Lieutenant Reed commed him to discuss something. It turned out to be a legitimate report on the condition of the experimental adjustments to the phase cannons and the Captain was just relaxing when Reed cleared his throat and said stiffly.

“Concerning the relationship between yourself and Commander Tucker-” Archer interrupted sharply.

“It’s over.” Reed’s expression changed minutely but Archer wasn’t able to decipher it. Finally, his Armoury Officer said neutrally.

“It is hardly a security concern.” Nettled, Archer held back from snorting; that could mean a lot of different things. Deciding that he could puzzle over that indefinitely, but it didn’t really matter as Reed implied he didn’t see it as a problem, Archer instead just nodded and asked.

“If that’s all, Lieutenant?” Reed primly nodded and exited.

Finally, the Captain could think of no more excuses and so asked Trip to join him in his quarters. The Commander was prompt, no doubt anticipating the request. When the door chimed, Archer breathed in slowly and forced himself to shrug off the Captain’s persona. So it was Jon that opened the door. Trip looked nervous.

“Hey.” Jon tried to smile.

“Hi.” He stepped back and Trip came in, stooping to scratch Porthos behind the ears. Feeling uneasy, Jon swung his arms a little and resisted the urge to pace. Instead he began.

“So…” Trip looked up and said reassuringly.

“It’s not that bad.”

“Oh?”

“No. They know that we’ve had sex before and that we’re definitely not still having it. That’s it.” Jon licked his lips and nodded absentmindedly before asking.

“They being?”

“Malcolm and Phlox. Not sure about T’Pol but if she had ‘doubts’ then we’d have heard about them by now.” That was true, Jon supposed. Oh, but Reed definitely knew more thanks to his loss of control earlier. Well, it couldn’t be helped now. He frowned, still not ready to let go of his doubts over the whole thing.

“You sure that’s it?”

“That’s it.” Jon breathed out heavily. He was relieved, definitely. Though his stomach still felt a little queasy.

“Well that’s something.” He watched Trip continue to rub Porthos’ belly. “You okay?”

“Yep.” Jon recognised Trip’s fake-nonchalant voice and noticed the avoidance of eye contact. Regret hung over him as he watched his ex, his best friend, pretend that everything was fine. Pretend that he wasn’t hurting.

It had been the right decision, one he stuck by, but at the same time… Jon looked at his terminal. The presence of the recording an almost tangible thing, calling to and repulsing him in equal measure. Trip continued stroking Porthos, though his strokes were deliberate enough that Jon knew he was still very aware of Jon’s presence, and his gaze. Was Trip…wary of him? Was there something on the recording which he didn’t want Jon to hear? To remember? It was different now that he was Trip’s direct superior, it hadn’t been an issue before…

No, despite their close relationship, the problem of their differing ranks had always been a wedge between them. A small one, but there nonetheless. At the oddest of times, Trip would freeze up or deliberately not say something on his mind. It took a while, but Jon had realised that he’d never heard Trip say anything inappropriate to him. Yes, he made dirty jokes and told wild anecdotes, but never about fellow crewmen or Fleet members, superior or inferior in rank. Trip might chuckle if Jon cracked a joke about Duvall’s terrible piloting skills, but he would never make the joke himself. So the Commander was at least censoring himself a little around him, conscious of their respective ranks.

Jon liked to think that he hadn’t let rank affect how he acted but he knew that it had. He liked that Trip looked up to him, respected him and listened to what he had to say. Maybe he’d liked it a little too much. Liked that Trip would often defer to what Jon wanted to do or where he wanted to go. He wasn’t a wall-flower by any means but they’d never fought seriously over anything because Trip would back down before it would get too far. When they’d heard that Jon had been chosen as Captain of the Enterprise, it wasn’t exactly a surprise. They knew going into the relationship that there would be an end date, unless somehow neither of them were selected for the 5-year long voyage, as whilst it might have been tolerated when they weren’t in the same chain of command, that would change on Enterprise. It had been one of the things Forrest had mentioned when telling Archer that he had the job.

_There are conditions, Jon. I think you know what they are._

So Jon was surprised when Trip had suggested that they wait for each other, stay friends only throughout the mission but get back together at the end. It was a romantic idea and part of Jon was touched. But a larger part of him realised just how invested Trip was, how far he’d fallen in love. To his regret, Jon just didn’t feel the same way. He loved Trip and enjoyed being with him, but he couldn’t picture himself settling down with him. They didn’t have a future and so that’s what he said. Trip hadn’t liked it, had fought it. But in the end, he’d seen Jon’s resolve and accepted it reluctantly.

It hurt, but Jon knew that a clean break was best for both of them. Even now, when it was clear Trip was still mourning the break up and he admitted to himself that he missed the intimacy, the special warmth Trip only showed to lovers, he had to stay strong.

“Jon.” Pulled out of his thoughts, Jon raised his eyebrows in question. Trip only called him Jon when they’d been together and alone, and he hadn’t since…actually, since earlier that day if his scattered memory was accurate. “I’m still here.” Before Jon could respond, he got up with a half-smile. “Just so you know.” Then he turned and left.

Jon considered calling him back but he looked back at the terminal. The answer was in there. He sat down and listened to the recording and didn’t try to stop the tears.

**Author's Note:**

> If this bums you out too much, I'm toying with the idea of Part 2 with Malcolm basically saying to Trip: 'fuck all that, you're amazing. I'll love you.'


End file.
